


Dum Vivimus Vivamus

by Anonymous



Category: Horus Heresy - Various Authors
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal, Deepthroating, Double Penetration, Eventually Enthusiastic Participation, Fivesome - M/M/M/M/M, Incest, Kissing, M/M, Multi, Oral, Sloppy Seconds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:07:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22046119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: While we live, let us live.  Wherein Horus demonstrates his own propensity to bending (or breaking) the rules.  That is, just because he's an Alpha doesn't mean he can't bottom.
Kudos: 33
Collections: PB Anon Meme - 2019





	Dum Vivimus Vivamus

Horus disliked the word _can't_. He disliked it on principal. It was so limiting and he was of the mind that their world (their galaxy) had enough limitations without people setting additional constraints on themselves. He was old enough to remember when the illumination of the Sol System had been written off as a _can't_. There were too many disparate factions; there was too much space; the other High Lords would never agree to the endeavor... and so on.

He did, however, like the word _couldn't_. Its use implied the erasure of a _can't_. Those priggish pompous goons had thought the compliance of the Andromeda Sector impossible, until they'd all been sent the victor's laurels. Can't shifted rapidly into couldn't then and Horus wished he had been on Terra to see the Lords' faces.

They must have looked quite similar to his brothers then. He looked their faces over, making no effort to hide the amusement that surely twinkled in his own gaze.

" _What_ did you say?" Angron demanded, leaning forward as if he had misheard.

"Enough with your jokes, Horus," Mortarion said shortly after, "I have a Legion to ready."

"Rest assured I am not joking," Horus answered, gesturing to the spacious four poster bed behind them. "Come brothers," he added, pitching himself against the mattress, "I would have us truly learn one another."

"This is ridiculous -- " Fulgrim started. He was about to cross his arms but the sight of Magnus _following Horus into bed_ made him stumble. "Magnus, you can't be serious," he said.

"That's the spirit," Horus said at the same time.

"The thought had occurred to me," the Master of Prospero admitted.

"Few thoughts haven't," Mortarion snorted.

"It will be an experiment of sorts," Magnus concluded as Horus helped him out of his duty robes.

"An experiment," Angron repeated, curling his lip in distaste.

"Our brother the sorcerer does have his way with words," Horus murmured, gently taking Magnus by the chin and pressing kisses up and down his jawline. Magnus was visibly affected by Horus' proximity; his touch and his words. But then, who wouldn't be? The blood that was shared between the five of them was acutely felt then for a similarly electric spark made its way through the rest of them at the sight of their entwined siblings.

"But this is no experiment," Horus continued, though Magnus would rather he not. "How can it be, when the answer is already known?"

"It's not possible," Angron snorted.

"There's no point," Mortarion reiterated.

Horus smiled, sticking out his tongue to trace the edge of Magnus' left earlobe. Magnus gave an unbecoming whimper that resounded in his brothers' ears.

"Fulgrim?" Horus asked, turning his gaze to the genesire of the Emperor's Children. "Are you of the same mind as Angron and Mortarion?"

"Far be it from me to deny Horus Lupercal anything," Fulgrim answered, "But you must concede they have a point."

"The point being that there is no point," Mortarion interjected.

Horus sighed and looked singularly disappointed with all of them. Fulgrim looked away and Angron glowered, yet only Mortarion stood his ground.

"Very well then," Horus said, gesturing carelessly in the direction of the door. "You may take your leave then." He seized Magnus' face then and kissed him fully. With teeth and tongues and such enthusiasm that Magnus was moaning into the embrace soon after. Mortarion and Fulgrim exchanged discomfitted looks. Angron spat on the floor and muttered curses. But none of them made any move to leave.

"Magnus," Horus purred, radiant in the presence of a captive audience, "Have I told you that you are my dearest sibling? My best-beloved brother, the one closest to my heart?"

This declaration led to minute reactions from the other three Primarchs. Magnus, however, was so far gone, he barely even heard Horus' words. His eyes fluttered weakly as he craned his head upwards for another kiss. Horus rewarded him with a quick peck -- to which Magnus replied with a heady moan -- before he expertly maneuvered both of them out of the rest of their garments.

"Brother," Horus murmured, sliding down to lie between Magnus' legs, "You are beautiful. More beautiful than anyone I have ever seen."

"Horus -- " Magnus started, perhaps at last aware of how maddeningly jealous his siblings had become. Except whatever he had been planning on saying never made its way out because Horus jutted his head forward and -- in a single smooth motion -- took Magnus' cock into his mouth. Magnus moaned, low and long and loud. In that moment, he couldn't care less how green his brothers had turned: the sensation of Horus' lips wrapped about the base of his cock, of Horus' throat contracting about his cockhead, it was sweet enough to sacrifice a library for and he did not care if it doomed him.

"This is disgusting," Angron said.

"Not to mention pointless," Mortarion added.

"I'll be next then," Fulgrim said. Angron spat again and Mortarion shot him a dirty look. Horus was now enthusiastically bobbing up and down on Magnus' cock. And Magnus was close, that much was apparent. Sweat dripped from his brow as he dug his fingers into the sheets. He made to buck his hips but Horus stilled him with a hand pressed up against the small of his back.

"Horus -- wait -- " Magnus rasped.

And then Horus extricated himself with a positively filthy _pop_. It was as if he had rouged his lips and cheeks. His eyes were still twinkling though and he looked far too pleased with himself.

"Yes?" he had the gall to ask.

Magnus wrapped his arms about him and drew him in for another kiss. Angron crossed his arms with a huff while Mortarion and Fulgrim traded glances.

'Would he?' Mortarion's said.

'It's Horus,' Fulgrim's answered.

Only Horus could dream up this sort of plot. Only Horus would even conceive of such a hare-brained scheme and then have the courage (or cunning, or just plain cockiness) to see it through. Only Horus would roll his hips and part his thighs like a painted whore before his skittling skuttling brothers and _demand_ to be taken.

"Throne of Man," Fulgrim murmured when Horus had successfully speared himself upon Magnus' cock.

"How does it feel?" Mortarion couldn't help but ask. The question was meant for Magnus, he would insist, but Horus intercepted that too, wiping a line of sweat from the Master of Prospero's cheek before grinning toothily at the Lord of Death.

"Patience, brother," Horus purred, rolling his hips, "You'll find out soon enough."

'That was not the intended query,' Mortarion would have said, if Horus hadn't then shoved Magnus against the mattress so that he could properly buck his hips up and down. The sight was so alien as to be disgusting, yet at the same time, so enthralling that none of them could look away. Even Angron -- who refused to have anything to do with the incubation of geneseed -- was forced to swallow when Horus threw his head back, keening with the pleasure of being taken.

Magnus came with a cry. He jerked his hips right off of the bed and held them there for some time before sagging down, both sated and deflated.

"Fulgrim?" Horus turned to his voyeurs. His whole body was sparkling with sweat.

"Yes," Fulgrim replied.

"Good," Horus beamed. At once the Phoenician began disrobing himself. While he was doing this, Horus eased himself off of Magnus' cock, stroking Magnus' face and pressing soft sweet kisses to the sorcerer's brow. In between these kisses, because it was Horus, he murmured words of praise.

Magnus was still in the process of catching his breath when Fulgrim eased himself onto the bed. Horus kissed him deeply before switching partners.

"Tut tut," Fulgrim tsked, brushing his fingertips against Horus' erection, " _I'll_ be sure to return the favour."

"Brother," Horus acknowledged, licking and kissing at the side of Fulgrim's neck, "You're too kind."

Fulgrim chuckled -- a wet and dark sound -- before he looped Horus' right leg over his shoulder, pressing his own cockhead against Horus' still-leaking entrance in the same motion.

Mortarion, at this point, was cautiously inching towards Magnus, who seemed to have recovered some of his wits. Enough to prop himself up to watch the rest of the show, at least. Fulgrim was far more experienced in the arts of pleasure and he had Horus bucking against him within seconds. Between tugging at his nipples and kneading his ass, Horus was quickly reduced to the same state of moans and sighs as Magnus had been.

"So," Mortarion started, even as most of his cognitive capabilities were concerned with committing the moment to memory, "How was it?"

In some other time or place, Magnus would have surely crowed over the concession. For was it not Mortarion who had sworn nothing short of the Emperor would have him exchanging words with the Master of Prospero again? But with Fulgrim thrusting into Horus half a metre away, Mortarion could be afforded his grudges.

"Indescribable," Magnus whispered. His tongue darted out to lick a thin line against the bottom of his lips. Mortarion wasn't sure if his brother was referring to Horus' mouth or ass and was at once seized with jealousy that Magnus (the bookish high-browed magician!) might know the brightest star in the sky so.

"Brother," Horus answered, tilting his head back to look first at Magnus and then at Mortarion. Mortarion shivered. Horus Lupercal had an uncanny ability to read men's minds. And hearts. "Brother," Horus repeated, reaching towards him even as Fulgrim curled up against him, covering the left nipple with his mouth.

"What," Mortarion said, wishing he might sound unaffected.

"Come here."

"Why."

"So I might have a taste of you."

Mortarion wished he were someone else. Or at very least some _where_ else. But he was still a son of the Emperor and younger brother to Horus Lupercal and he was still within arm's reach of the other and far too entrenched in his sphere of influence to say no. He went, albeit grudgingly, stripping off his outer and then inner garments. In the seconds that passed, he told himself Horus only wanted a kiss, or that Fulgrim would finish before then, or that Horus was no doubt tired from pleasuring two brothers and wouldn't have the energy for him.

It was only when Horus bit the inside of his thigh -- eliciting an undignified yelp from Mortarion and what might have passed as a chuckle if it didn't come from Angron -- that Mortarion was pulled from his own dark musings.

"A taste!" he exclaimed. "Is this what you mean?"

"I would have you think of me while I'm sucking you off," Horus answered, twisting and turning himself so as to make room for Mortarion. "And I would have you kiss me when you finish."

"I -- " _will do no such thing_ , Mortarion meant to say. Except Horus took him just as quickly as he took Magnus, and Throne of Man -- it was just like Magnus had said. There was something about being pleasured in such a sordid senseless manner by the most illustrious of their brothers that set his senses aflame. Mortarion found himself short of breath and unable to commit the details to memory. His gaze wandered, frantic and erratic, before resting on Fulgrim.

Midway through a thrust, Fulgrim paused, cognisant of his brother's gaze, and looked up to fix his fellow Primarch with a sultry leer.

Soon, his smile said. _Soon_.

Horus was wonderfully responsive and fantastically tight, despite just having been pounded by (or rather, having nailed himself upon) Magnus. He rolled his hips at the perfect staccato and his hands seemed to be everywhere at once. Wrapped about Fulgrim's neck; tracing patterns against Fulgrim's thighs; clawing lines down Fulgrim's back; he thought at once of his own best-beloved brother and how he might be pleasured so.

The thought of fucking into Ferrus while their brothers watched was enough to send Fulgrim over the edge. With a gasp, he bit into Horus' bare shoulder and gave a keening roll of his own hips.

Fulgrim was incredulous to discover that Horus was still hard and leaking -- that despite everything, he had not come. It was an insult, an affront to his own skills as a lover, and he was about to demand a second round to redeem his own honour except Horus' mouth was still wrapped about Mortarion's cock and Angron had gruffly walked over to the bed.

"You've had your fun, Phoenician," the Red Angel grumbled.

Fulgrim raised his brows, surprised. "I take it to mean you'll be taking your turn?" he asked.

Angron gave a grunt of affirmation. Fulgrim wondered if this hadn't been Horus' plan all along. In any case, Fulgrim bowed out, elegantly sliding out, up, and away from the entanglement of limbs. Horus took the time to come up for air, pressing kisses to Mortarion's inner thighs while he repositioned himself on his elbows and knees. Mortarion was putting up a decent disaffected front, though his flat expression only seemed to emphasise his state of arousal.

Fulgrim sighed, stretching his arms and then his legs, before he flounced down on Magnus' side of the bed.

"Have you ever?" he asked his brother.

"What?" Magnus asked. Fulgrim gestured at the position Horus was currently taking.

It shouldn't have been possible, but Magnus visibly flushed. "No," he mumbled, unable to tear his eyes away, "Never."

"I have," Fulgrim preened. Then he paused, sharing a contrite smile, "Not, however, in such good company. I wonder how it feels like."

"Gharl's teeth," Angron hissed as he slowly pressed himself in. "Is this how you've found favour?"

Horus, whose mouth was still filled with Mortarion, was unable to respond. He rolled his hips and clenched his ass instead. Angron gave a bark of laughter before hitting it with an open palm. Magnus and Fulgrim winced at the sound.

"That'll sting tomorrow," Mortarion noted.

"Oh for the love of the Emperor," Fulgrim snapped, "Can't you make more of a show of enjoying it?"

Mortarion glared at him and, in response, grasped on to Horus' head and gave a proper thrust. Magnus and Fulgrim winced again, though Horus gave an enthusiastic moan.

"There's a word for people like you," Angron said, casually raking his nails down Horus' backside.

"Oh?" Mortarion asked, though his breath hitched at the end, no doubt because Horus had taken to fondling his balls with one hand. "What is it?" he had the gall to ask.

"Yerkath," Angron replied, grinning with a mouthful of razor-sharp teeth.

"Yerkath," Fulgrim repeated. He stage-whispered to Magnus: "What does it mean?"

"It means soggy sack of ammunition with a stick up the muzzle," Magnus shot back.

Mortarion would have glared daggers, except then Horus tightened his throat so that there was the most delicious sucking motion at the top of his cock and between Horus' tongue and his palm, Mortarion found himself pushed past the brink of climax. Seeing the Lord of Death come undone was a beautiful sight. His lips parted and he rasped soundless words. Perhaps it was the dead language of his stillborn homeworld. In any case, his whole being tensed up, stretched taut like a puppet at the end of a string, before he was forced to brace himself with Horus' shoulders.

"Well?" Magnus asked, even before Mortarion had caught his breath. "How was it?"

"Senseless," Mortarion insisted. "Pointless." And then he drew himself together and sank down so that he was level with Horus, pressing their mouths together as per request. Even with his line of vision blocked by Mortarion, Magnus could see Horus' smile, bright enough to light up the room.

This kiss was laughably chaste, considering what had happened before. It was the press of mouth against mouth, sharing breath but not seed, and when it was over, Mortarion had the nerve to throw a heavy-lidded glance at Magnus.

"But not without pleasure," he admitted.

"Never that, eh?" Fulgrim answered, toasting with an invisible glass.

Mortarion recused himself to the opposite end of the bed, though he made no effort to dress himself. And so it was Angron and Horus at centre stage. Angron was thrusting in and out with savage pleasure, raking long thin lines of blood up and down Horus' back. It would have been painful for all but their kind, so Horus' physiology was such that the wounds healed before they were even fully formed.

"Yes," Horus panted, rocking his hips in-tandem to Angron's thrusting, "Yes -- like that -- brother -- please," he added.

Angron's hands had been trailing down Horus' back but when he heard the diminutive, he reached one hand around, pressing his chest against Horus, and carefully wrapped his fingers about Horus' unattended cock.

"Brother, am I?" Angron asked. The sound was as wet at the slap of flesh against flesh.

"Brother," Horus repeated. "Please."

Then it was Angron's turn then, to lick a wet stripe up the back of Horus' ear. Magnus felt Fulgrim shudder against him and he wondered who his brother wanted to be. If it were anyone but Horus, Mortarion would not have stayed -- to say nothing of Angron. But because it was Horus, Horus, who was the apple of their distant father's eye, Horus, who cajoled his way into the hearts of Primarch and Astartes alike, Horus, who was attended to by a _flock_ of incubators, all of whom could wage war just as well as their brethren -- because it was Horus, even Angron acquiesced.

Angron used one hand to stroke Horus' length and another to fondle his balls while his own thrusting went from frantic to languid. If Mortarion hadn't been there to bear witness to the scene, he would have never believed the Red Angel capable of such restraint. As it was, the road to climax was a gentle ascent and there was something almost tender in how Angron mouthed at the nape of Horus' neck.

"My brothers," Horus breathed, and it was at once both confession and endearment, "I love you so." He spilled in Angron's hand thus and Angron soon followed him over the edge.

His eyes were glimmering with both affection and mirth and his fellow Primarchs made a silent oath then, to remember him in that moment. Only Horus Lupercal might pull such humanity from Angron -- from all of them, really.

Angron pulled out and slipped off the bed, giving the impression of a dog turning tail.

"Brother," Horus called.

"What." Angron turned, but he did not go.

"Thank you."

The Lord of the Red Sands looked upon his sibling, holding his gaze for a heady moment. Then he dropped it and turned back to the door, stooping down only to pick up his fallen garments.

"It was nothing." And like that, he took his leave.

The remaining brothers exchanged glances. Then -- as one -- they looked at Horus. Horus was smiling, as if he'd won some prize. He was also seated with his legs crossed and he looked every inch the demigod his men believed him to be.

"Well?" Horus said, spreading his arms as his smile widened, "Are you up for round two?"

Mortarion snorted. "You're incorrigible."

Horus laughed, "That's not a no!"

It wasn't a no. And it certainly wasn't a can't.


End file.
